


Meet you all the way

by Builder



Series: Jonestown [6]
Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, Complicated Relationships, Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Jessica Jones (TV) Spoilers, Mission Fic, POV Jessica Jones, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 09:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: “I…I’m sorry,” Jess whispers.  “I just…”  She inhales slowly.  “I don’t drive.  You know that.”“Tough.  Today you do.”__________When Nat's injured on a mission, it all comes down to Jess.  If she doesn't crack under the pressure.





	Meet you all the way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxx_cat_xxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxx_cat_xxx/gifts).



> Find me on tumblr @builder051

“Look out!” Nat yells.  She tugs on Jess’s arm and pushes her into a half-crouch in the shadow of the building.  “Get down.”

“You get down,” Jess hisses to her, exerting equal force on Nat’s wrist.

“Shhh.”  Nat stands her ground and pulls her gun from her belt.

“Don’t make me hide.  You’re not my protector, you know.”  Jess straightens up and stands tall at Nat’s shoulder.

“Listen to me, dammit.  It’s not my first rodeo.”  Nat looks at Jess for a split second.  Then the sound of a gunshot cracks through the air.

Nat’s gaze snaps straight ahead again.  “Fuck.  What did I say?”

“Shit.  Ok.”  Jess takes a step back and flattens herself against the wall.  Her heart sinks to her stomach as she watches Nat empty her clip.  She shoots twice more after the goon hits the ground.  But at least Nat’s getting her anger out.

She shoves her gun back into its holster and turns to Jess, her brow still furrowed in frustration.  Nat takes one step, and her face goes grey.  Her right leg crumples beneath her, and she collapses toward the pavement.

“Oh my god.”  Jess trips forward and hooks Nat by the armpits to soften the impact.

“Get off me.”  Nat aims a weak shove at Jess and screws up her eyes.  She lets out a shallow breath.  “Fuck.  God.  Fuck.”

“What happened?”  Jess kneels as close to Nat as she dares.  She hovers her hands an inch above Nat’s shoulder, wanting more than anything to stay the minute tremors that wrack her frame.

Nat moans softly and bites her lip.  “Fuck,” she whispers again.  Tears cling to her eyelashes when she lifts her head.  “You can’t distract me like that.”  A note of accusation hangs beneath the veil of emotion.

“Ok,” Jess quickly agrees.  “Ok, I won’t.”  She can’t help herself, and she pushes a lock of hair off Nat’s forehead, now glistening with clammy sweat.  She makes herself ask, “Where were you hit?”

Nat leans back a fraction of an inch.  Jess notices both of her hands clamped just above her knee.

At first, Jess is relieved.  A bullet to the leg is rarely fatal.  No vital organs to damage there.  But blood loss is still a problem.  And if the slightly skewed angle of Nat’s knee is anything to go by, they’re also dealing with a broken bone.

“Ok.  Let me see,” Jess says, fighting to keep her voice calm.

“No, it needs pressure.”

“Come on, Nat.  Let me see.”  Jess barely has to exert force to break Nat’s grip.  What she sees beneath is enough to send her heart plummeting all over again, out of her body and straight into the ground.  If she caused this, she’s heartless indeed.

“Ok.”  Jess’s voice trembles.  She guides Nat’s bloody hand back over the wound.  “Keep putting pressure on it.  I’ll carry you.”

“Wait—”  Nat’s shoulders jerk forward and she retches.  Strings of mucous drip into her lap.

“Alright, here.”  Jess hopes her hands are steady as she guides Nat’s body to the side.  She heaves again, but only brings up a dribble of bile.

“Ugh,” Nat groans.  “Sorry.”  She spits and wipes her mouth on her shoulder.  Jess sees her jaw quivering with the threat of either sickness or tears.  “I’m…made of stronger stuff than this.”

“I know.  Don’t worry about it.”  Jess pats Nat on the back.  When it seems she’s not going to vomit again, Jess snakes one arm behind Nat’s back and the other under her thighs.  She leverages her hold for a moment, trying not to get too close to the bullet wound.

Nat blanches as Jess slowly straightens up.

“Ok?” Jess checks in, though she knows the whole situation is anything but.

“Hm,” Nat hums.  Tear tracks streak silently down her cheeks.

Jess blinks hard and tears her gaze away from Nat’s face.  She glances around.  She’s not used to being the one in charge.  Not on missions.  “I’m gonna get you help,” she murmurs.

“Can’t…stand around and wait,” Nat breathes.  “Get out of here.”

“Ok,” Jess agrees frantically.  “Ok.”

But how the hell is she supposed to do that?  They can’t leave the way they came, waltzing off a SHIELD helicopter that’s long since vanished into the horizon.  Jess tries to remember how they’re supposed to be extracted once the mission is complete, but her mind seems to be moving at the speed of molasses, sticking to thoughts she doesn’t need to be replayed.  Like the fact that Nat’s losing blood.

“Ok,” Jess whispers again.  They’re in a run-down section of town.  The body of the agent Nat shot down still lies in the middle of the street.  If the sound of gunfire hasn’t drawn attention to them yet, they’re probably safe.  Jess starts in the opposite direction anyway.  She’s seen enough gore for today without having to walk past Nat’s handiwork.

“You really don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”  Nat laughs, but it turns into a cough, then a gag.

“Yeah, I do,” Jess says defiantly, sliding her hand up between Nat’s shoulder blades.

“Sure.”  Nat rolls her eyes.  She jerks her head in the direction of a dented van parked at the curb about a block down.  “See that car?”

“Um.  Yeah?”

“We’re gonna steal it,” Nat rasps.

“No.”  It’s a knee-jerk reaction.  Jess doesn’t mean to be so defiant, but her breathing’s already shallow, her chest hollow and tight.

“Well, since you’re brimming with better ideas…”  Nat trails off with a pained sound.

“I…I’m sorry,” Jess whispers.  “I just…”  She inhales slowly.  “I don’t drive.  You know that.”

“Tough.  Today you do.”

“Nat…”  Jess shakes her head an inch to either side.  Fear presses from all sides while variations of worst-case scenarios battle it out in her imagination.

“You have to.  It was a skill you had to have when you signed on with SHIELD, right?”  Nat’s beginning to slur.  Jess doesn’t know whether it’s better to keep her talking or tell her to shut up and save her strength.

“I had to know how,” she says.  “Not actually do it.”

“Well, I’m not dying in a ghetto in the middle of nowhere,” Nat says.  “If it was my other leg, I’d drive.”

“I’m sure,” Jess says under her breath.

“Hold on.  Be quiet.”  Nat turns her cheek in front of Jess’s face to shush her.  Through the ragged rise and fall of Nat’s breath, Jess hears it.  The bass beat of rap music intertwining with the low hum of an engine.  Someone’s coming.

“See?  We gotta go,” Nat says.

Jess bites her lip and swallows her apprehension.  “Ok.”

The van has a flat tire, but the front passenger door miraculously opens when Jess tries it.  She settles Nat in the seat, then rushes around to the driver’s side.  Nat breathily talks her through hotwiring the thing, and it roars to life just as a supped-up Cadillac rounds the corner, high beams glaring.

Nat leans back in her seat and sits stock-still.  “Don’t look at them,” she whispers.  “It’s your car.  You’re not doing anything wrong.”

Jess puts the van into reverse and eases her foot off the brake.  She holds her breath as it rolls a couple of feet.  One of the rear wheels hits the curb with a scrape. Jess nearly jumps out of her skin.  She throws the van into drive and fights the urge to look out the window for the other car.

“You’re fine.  They’re leaving,” Nat says.  “Now go.”

Jess doesn’t need telling twice.  She steps on the gas and pulls away from the curb.  The van handles badly, pulling to the side with the flat, but it moves at a decent clip.  Waves of anxiety crash in Jess’s stomach as she picks up speed.

Nat breathes in sharply every time the van turns.   “Sorry,” Jess whispers in response.  She doesn’t trust herself to say anything else.  Her throat aches, each shallow breath burning on the way in and again on the way out.

Jess is honestly surprised she can drive at all.  She hasn’t tried in years.  Not since she took the test and got her license in eleventh grade, and even then she couldn’t get out of the car quickly enough.  She’d run to the bathroom in the DMV, swallowing tears and fragmented memories.

Jess’s heart seems to have rematerialized, thrumming against her ribs at three times its normal pace.  Her breathing is too fast as well, and too shallow.  It matches the cadence of Nat’s, then edges above it.  If she doesn’t calm down, she’s going to cause a wreck.

Not like that’s anything new, really.  Jess bites her lip as her panic starts to crystalize in a pain behind her forehead.  She as good as killed her family.  It doesn’t matter that time’s passed, that she’s done something with her life.  She nearly killed Nat, not even an hour ago.   She’s just the same.  A distraction.  A destroyer.

Jess follows the road out of town and onto a rambling country highway.  The glowing clock embedded in the dash flashes 12:00, so she can’t be sure how long they’ve been travelling.  Grey light starts to filter over the horizon, dawn threatening to drag them into a new day that’s not going to be any better.

Jess’s breath reaches the cadence of sobs, but her eyes stay resolutely dry.  Nat’s in an almost meditative state, her head tipped back against the seat and her gaze fixed out through the dusty windshield.  Blood still seeps from the wound under her clasped hands, hitting the floor of the van with an ominous drip that makes Jess’s spine tingle.

They’re rattling past a graffitied road sign when the sun breaches the flat landscape ahead of them.  Jess squints against the sudden brightness, her eyes streaming. “Fuck,” she mutters.  It’s the first word either of them have spoken since they got on the road.

Now that the floodgate’s been opened, Jess can’t help but cry.  Hot tears run down her cheeks before her breath hitches and betrays her.

“You ok?” Nat asks weakly, shifting in her seat.

Jess doesn’t try to answer.  She takes one shaking hand off the wheel and drags it roughly under her eyes.

At that moment, the van’s flat tire bounces through a pothole, sending reverberations through the whole of the vehicle.  “Oh my god,” Jess whispers.  Panic makes her blood run cold.  She jerks the steering wheel and slams her foot down on the brake.

The van comes to a screeching halt.  Nat’s thrown forward into the dashboard, groaning and cursing, but Jess doesn’t have time to ask if she’s alright.  Nat’s going to survive.  And Jess is going to be sick.

Nausea takes over the throbbing pain in Jess’s head, and bile’s already gushing into her throat when she flings the driver’s door open and practically falls onto the cracked asphalt.  Jess vomits once, then instinct kicks in again, and she hobbles around the back of the van for more privacy.

She leans against the rear bumper for a moment, but anxious tremors still run down her arms and legs.  Jess’s gut twinges again, and she braces her hands on her knees.  Her throat contracts and her jaw stretches painfully.  A splash of watery something comes up, yanking Jess’s heart with it.  She can feel her pulse pounding in her neck, forcefully reminding her that she’s alive.

And her parents aren’t.

And if she keeps up the status quo, someday Nat won’t be, either.

“Fuck.  Let me out!”  Nat’s beating on the van’s window.  “Jessica fucking Jones!” she screeches.

Jess struggles against another gag.  She’s empty.  Probably bordering on dehydrated.  Not to mention highly emotional.  She scoffs, then hacks up another mouthful of bile so sour it makes her teeth hurt.

“Jess!  Let me out!”

Jess wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, then rubs off the residue on her pants.  What can she say?  How can she explain this?  Because god knows Nat’s not going to let it go.

But if Nat’s angry, at least that means she’s still with it.  She shouldn’t be expending so much energy.  And the fact that Jess is in turn worried about her instead of wallowing in self-pity is a good sign.  Isn’t it?

The thought circle’s too complicated.  Jess shakes her head, waits out the resulting dizziness, and slowly turns up the passenger side of the van.  She lets her shoulder slide against the dirty paneling, then stops outside Nat’s door.

Nat halts her pounding and gives Jess a confused look through the window.  She’s left smears of blood on the glass.  Bitter saliva floods Jess’s mouth again, but she swallows it.  She grabs the door handle and breaks the seal of the lock with a single tug.

“Hey,” Jess murmurs hoarsely.

“Hey.”  Nat raises her eyebrows.  “Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

Jess shrugs.  “Not really.”

“Well, tough.  We’ve got time to kill.”

It takes a moment to compute.  “Huh?” Jess asks.

“I put out a distress call while you were barfing.”  Nat tries to smile, but Jess sees the corners of her lips shaking.

“Oh.  Good.”  Painful regret washes over her again.  Nat’s in bad shape.  And it’s all Jess’s fault.

“Not for me.”  Nat’s as good as reading her mind.  “I’m worried about you.  That kind of thing…”  She vaguely jerks her head toward the back of the van.  “That doesn’t happen with you too much.”

“Yeah.”  Jess crosses her arms over her stomach, desperate to stop the hollow ache from eating her alive.

“So.  I need to stay conscious.  You need a heart-to-heart.”  Nat pauses to let out a tremulous breath.  “Talk to me.  Or I’ll tell the rescue crew to leave you here.”  She pulls another smile.  Watching it makes Jess feel like her bones are turning to jelly.

“I…”  Jess shakes her head.  “It’s just…stuff.  From a long time ago.  It’s a long story.”

“It’s your family, isn’t it?”

All the air seems to leave Jess’s lungs.  “What…?  How…?”

“It usually is,” Nat sighs.  “None of us had normal childhoods, you know?”

Jess turns so Nat doesn’t see her eyes well up again.  Vertigo swells, and she sits on the edge of the doorframe by Nat’s feet.  There’s a rustling shift, and Nat’s elbow brushes lightly against the back of Jess’s head.

“Do you really wanna know?” Jess whispers.  “I mean, for more than just something to do.”

“Yeah.”  There’s sincerity beneath the strain in Nat’s voice.

“Ok.”  Jess blinks hard and steels herself up.  “Ok.  But you’re gonna hate me afterwards.”

“Never,” Nat says.  “I love you.”

“Huh?”  Jess tips her head back to look up at Nat.

“You heard me.”

“You’re high on adrenaline.”

Nat shrugs.  “Maybe.  But you still heard me.”  She grins.

Jess tips her ear toward her shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.  “I guess I did.”  Then she smiles back.


End file.
